


support, according to their need

by haltingbongo



Series: Odes to Duty [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angry But Impotent Robb, Cousin Incest, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rimming, Uncle/Nephew Incest, Unimpressed Cat, character death: ned's back, noncon voyeurism, slutty Jon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-20 05:39:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11914347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haltingbongo/pseuds/haltingbongo
Summary: All of Winterfell expected Jon's heat and Robb's rut to fall at the same time—after all, that was what usually happened for young bonded pairs. Ned never thought that he would have to fulfill his duty to Jon.





	support, according to their need

All of Winterfell expected Jon's heat and Robb's rut to fall at the same time—after all, that was what usually happened for young bonded pairs.

Ned never thought that he would have to fulfill his duty to Jon.

  
  


* * *

  
  


It was a northern tradition that Cat despised, and she never cared that it marked her out as southron. She made Ned promise that he would never take up his duty with Sansa and Arya when they presented, and he agreed without hesitation. Truth be told, he didn't really care for the practice either. 

Jon and Robb were sparring in the training yard when Jon's heat began. Ned heard later that Robb had managed to trip Jon, laying him flat on his back and pressing his practice blade against his throat. Ned could imagine Robb's teasing, triumphant grin falling off his face as Jon moaned, baring his neck and arching his back. The castle servants from the stables to the kitchens had been able to smell the heat rolling off him.

Except Robb; he couldn't smell it, because he hadn't gone into rut in kind.

  
  


* * *

  
  


So that was the reason why Ned was in Jon's room now, staring down at his nephew as he writhed and panted in his bed. 

Jon's heat scent was warm and thick. Ned felt his body responding, but was reluctant to lay hands on him. He never thought he'd have to do this, and he knew besides how eagerly Jon and Robb had been waiting for their first heat together. 

"Please," Jon begged in a hoarse whisper, and Ned decided that it would be a mercy, for the boy, if Ned made this as brusque and impersonal as he could. If he let Jon experience the shared passion and intimacy of a real heat coupling with his actual bondmate, instead of his gruff uncle. 

Ned began to unlace his trousers and loosen his underclothes with a weary sigh. "Take your clothes off, Jon," he instructed. Jon's hands were clumsy on himself, but Ned made no move to help him. It made Jon redden further and yank at his fastenings, until finally all his clothes were tossed onto the floor. Ned climbed onto the bed, freeing his cock from his breeches. Jon eyed Ned's clothes, but spread his legs eagerly to welcome him, whining high in his throat. 

"Turn over," Ned told him.

Jon hesitated, but closed his legs and turned onto his belly easily enough. Ned urged him to present with a wordless pat on the thigh, and Jon struggled to his hands and knees with a whimper. From his vantage point, Ned could see that Jon's hole was a dark pink, shiny with all the slick that wet his thighs down to the knee.

Ned pressed inside with two fingers, testing. Jon's back arched as he cried out in relief, but he cut the noise short as Ned pulled his fingers away quickly. The boy seemed ready enough. Better not draw it out too much—if Jon finished before Ned could spill inside him, then he'd have to endure his uncle's presence in his bed until he was ready again. 

With a quick muttered apology, Ned swiped his palm down Jon's cleft, eliciting another insistent cry from him. He used the slick to wet down his cock, which had gone completely hard from being so close to an omega in heat. Ned steeled himself, and with a silent apology to Robb, nudged the tip at Jon's hole. 

" _Yes_ ," Jon gasped, as Ned slid in slowly, gritting his teeth at the heated clench around his cock. "Father— _Father_ —!" 

The ache in his chest was sudden. Jon rarely called him anything but "Uncle" now, although as a young child he had copied Robb in calling him Father. Ned pushed it from his mind and kept his hands firmly on Jon's hips, not letting them wander. Once he was fully seated inside, he held still to allow Jon to adjust. Jon squirmed and panted in breathy whimpers, moving his hips minutely as he sought out more. Ned began to thrust at a brisk pace when he thought that Jon could tolerate it. He kept his gaze on the headboard, grimly focused on finishing this quickly, trying to ignore Jon's appealing scent and his desperate moans, which were growing increasingly quiet. 

Ned gave Jon his hand when he felt himself getting close, pulling a startled noise from the boy beneath him. He stroked Jon, quick and impersonal, letting him finish first. As Jon dripped silently onto the sheet under his belly, Ned pulled out of Jon far enough to grip his own knot tight in his palm, but still spill inside; the boy needed his seed to make his heat subside. He kept his groan as quiet as he could, pressing his lips tight against his own voice. 

As short and passionless as Ned had tried to make it for Jon, he still found himself out of breath, sweat dripping down his sides under his clothes and his pulse pounding in his ears. He dearly wanted to collapse onto the bed next to Jon, but thought it best to let the boy have his rest until he needed an alpha again. He climbed out of bed and tucked himself back into his breeches, settling his clothes. "Rest for now," he said. "Call for a servant to come find me when you need me again." 

Jon made no response, but he curled up with his back to the door and pulled his blankets up to his shoulders.

Satisfied that Jon had heard him, Ned finished clothing himself and slipped out of the room.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Ned went to his study and called for Luwin, Rodrick, and Catelyn. His wife gave him a sidelong glance that he pretended not to see. Together, they made arrangements for his obligations as lord of Winterfell to be delegated elsewhere while he was with Jon. If Ned had known that he would be taking up his duty for his nephew's first heat, he could have made all the necessary preparations beforehand.

Ned hadn't realized that the meeting was taking longer than he had planned when Robb burst into his study. His eyes were stormy and furious, but he kept his emotions tightly controlled in front of his parents. 

"Father," he gritted out, "Jon needs you."

Ned glanced up and saw that the sun had begun to set, and that servants had lit the candles in the room while he was unawares. "He knows to send someone for me when he's ready again," Ned dismissed. "He's fine."

Robb somehow flattened his expression without seeming disrespectful. "He is _not_ fine."

"May I be of service? Does the boy need tending to?" Maester Luwin spoke up, starting to rise from his chair.

"Thank you, but I don't think he needs a maester," Robb said, nodding slightly to Luwin. He looked at Ned again. "He just needs my father, at the moment."

Ned sighed and left the others to finish the preparations without him. At the door, Robb reached out and gripped his elbow. Ned stopped, startled—Robb was never this aggressive. Ned's nostrils flared, taking in his scent to check for a rising rut, but he didn't detect anything different about his son. Robb's eyes were sharp as he said, "Take care of him, Father. You know it's his first heat." 

Ned walked towards Jon's room, troubled. He was likely worried for no reason. Robb had probably been skulking around Jon's door the moment Ned left, he thought, smiling briefly.

But he knew he'd made a terrible mistake as he walked down the hallway and the sour stink of Jon's misery hit him in the face. Ned hurried in without knocking.

Jon was still curled on his side as Ned had left him, but the blankets had been kicked to the foot of the bed. His dark, curling hair hid his face and his thighs were a mess of dry seed and new slick. The boy's heat had likely risen again at least an hour before.

Jon must have been desperate for Ned's touch at this point, but he flinched away when Ned laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'll be fine," he said, voice wet and wavering. "You don't need to."

"You're in pain, Jon," Ned said, trying to gentle his voice. He knew he could be somewhat gruff, but he was certain that he hadn't been rough during their coupling. Jon's reaction to his touch was dismaying. "Jon," Ned said, sitting on the edge of the bed and tangling his fingers into Jon's hair. "Jon, let me." He carefully stroked his fingers down Jon's spine. Jon couldn't hide a small shiver and quiet hitch of breath, and Ned counted it as a victory. He stroked his palm from shoulder to hip, and Jon arched his back before catching himself, curling up even more tightly away from Ned. 

With dawning horror, Ned realized that in his efforts to remain distant, he had hurt Jon. Not in a way that would leave bruises, but harsh enough to bring tears.

"I'm sorry, Jon," Ned murmured. "I've been terribly unkind. I thought—well, no matter. I was wrong." He stroked the shell of Jon's ear. "I will leave you alone if that is what you truly wish, but I do want to share your heat with you, if you'll let your callous brute of an uncle do better this time."

After a long moment, Jon turned his head just far enough to look at Ned with one red-rimmed eye. "Can...can I touch you? Will you take your clothes off this time?"

All at once, Ned hated himself for what he'd done. "Of course Jon, anything you want. I promise." He stood up and unclasped his cloak, dropping it on a chair. When he turned back to the bed, Jon had rolled onto his other side to watch, eyes growing wide and lips parting. "Will you help me?" Ned asked, the idea coming to him as he spoke. Jon bit his lip, sitting up with cautious excitement. 

They removed Ned's clothes together, Jon's breath coming more quickly as they reached the last of Ned's underclothes. Ned realized that he'd started panting too, his cock straining towards Jon and bobbing ridiculously as he kicked away the last bit of cloth. He climbed back into bed and Jon tore his eyes away from between Ned's thighs, ducking his head.

"I'll turn over—" he started to say in a small voice, but Ned held him in place.

"We can take our time a little, if you can stand it," Ned said. Jon swallowed and nodded eagerly, arching up into Ned's hands. 

Ned was wracked with guilt with how he had treated the boy for his first heat. He tried to make up for it with exploratory touches and sweet words. He dragged his tongue over Jon's sensitive nipples until they pebbled, found the spot under his ear that made Jon's cock jump when he kissed there, and laid gentle bites across the blushing skin of his chest and thighs. "Gods, you're a pretty one," Ned sighed, and Jon squeezed his eyes shut tight as he grew even wetter around Ned's fingers.

Eventually Jon insisted on turning over to present, having already spilled once with Ned's fingers pressing deep inside him in long, teasing strokes. They both moaned when Ned sank his cock inside, Jon lifting his hips eagerly. 

"So good, Jon," Ned groaned in praise, and Jon cried out and pushed back against Ned's rolling thrusts. 

This time, Ned dragged it out longer, brought the both of them right up to edge and back, until Jon was shaking and crying as he spilled hot into Ned's fist. Ned groaned at the hot clench of him around his cock, the scent of Jon's pleasure in the warm air of the room, and felt his knot aching to fill. 

"Father, please," Jon whimpered, "please, I need—"

"Of course, sweetling, of course," Ned panted mindlessly, pushing into Jon, his hands stroking everywhere he could reach. His knot grew and grew until it locked inside Jon, and he heaved a relieved moan as pleasure shot through him and he filled Jon up with his seed. Jon cried out and arched his back like a drawn bow, hips moving to welcome the knot. 

They maneuvered carefully onto their sides, catching their breaths as they lay tied together. When Ned brushed his lips gently across the back of Jon's shoulder, Jon bared his neck instinctively with a whine. Ned hushed him, nosing into the damp edge of Jon's hairline and simply mouthing at the skin there—the bite that Jon was asking for was exclusively for a bonded mate, and that at least Ned wouldn't take away from Robb.

Eventually Ned did leave the bed, and Jon made a broken, bereft noise that he quickly tried to stifle. Ned shushed him with a stroke of his knuckles against his cheek to reassure him. He put on his trousers to cover his dignity so that he could open the door and call for a servant. 

"Ask Maester Luwin to brew some moon tea for Jon." The whole castle would know that meant he was knotting his nephew, but so be it. "Also, we will need food and drink soon, and several times a day thereafter," Ned instructed. "I will be staying here for the rest of Jon's heat."

Jon took a sharp breath when he heard this, and when Ned turned to look, his eyes were wet with unshed tears. He reached out eagerly for Ned as he shed his trousers and returned to bed.

Ned admitted to himself that Jon was truly enchanting in bed, each new pleasure a surprising discovery for him, eager and grateful at every touch. Jon was so patently desperate for whatever that Ned could give him, his wide dark eyes searching for proof that his alpha was also taking pleasure in his body. Ned set out to give in to Jon's every request, teach him all the ways he could make Jon moan and draw out another burst of wetness from between his thighs.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Afterwards, Ned felt—energized. More youthful, perhaps. Robb was stiff with him, which was understandable. Cat didn't roll her eyes at him, because that would be unladylike, but she somehow managed it anyway. Southron women, Ned marveled. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Ned had to admit to himself that he was, perhaps, playing favorites with the children. With Jon.

It started with occasional pats on Jon's head or shoulder, a warm word or two about his sword work in the practice yard; nothing unseemly. Jon brightened up so much each time that Ned felt a pang in his chest—had he truly not shown even this much affection to the boy? 

After that revelation, Ned indulged him with longer caresses, occasionally dropping a soft kiss into his hair. He began to give Jon small gifts, but nothing extravagant—mostly sweets from the kitchens, or extra desserts at dinner. At times, Ned would catch himself staring at Jon's lips—had Jon always bitten them so pink? 

If Robb seethed a little at their behavior—well. Maybe a little competition is what his son needed to inspire his rut. 

Ned kept a careful eye on Robb for the next month. He stuck close to Jon's side, attentive as ever, but showed no signs of starting his rut. So Ned quietly made arrangements, and by the time he was called to Jon's room again to help him through another heat, he was satisfied that all his duties would be seen to while he took care of Jon. While his son fumed quietly, Ned returned again and again to Jon's room to knot and soothe him as an alpha should for an omega in their care. He came to know Jon's body almost as well as his own: how much teasing he could tolerate, where he liked to have Ned's mouth, how many fingers he liked inside him and for how long. 

Ned knew that Cat had employed Luwin to find treatments to stimulate Robb's rut. Not wanting to embarrass his son, he turned a blind eye to the outlandish exercises and unpalatable concoctions that the maester had prescribed him. His only comment, made in private to Cat, was to ask that Robb not be served his pungent potions at the dinner table.

And so it went, as month after month Robb's rut never appeared. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Ned only began to notice a problem after Jon's sixth heat. 

He rubbed at the base of his spine absently as he trudged wearily to his rooms, the prospect of having to settle yet another squabble between two minor northern houses less pleasant than the last few days he had spent with Jon.

Ned had had to lie down towards the end, too weary to take Jon from behind. He had even taken the time to teach Jon how to take his cock in his pretty red mouth. In all his youthful eagerness, Jon had managed to exhaust Ned's reserves. He didn't have the limitless lustful energy of a rutting alpha. When Ned couldn't manage to couple with Jon a final time, he took Jon into his mouth and gave him his fingers, letting Jon take what he needed from him.

The next day, he couldn't get out of bed.

Catelyn had to call for Luwin, who applied poultices to Ned's back and used whatever mysterious sciences he had at his call to get Ned walking again. He was healed completely within a few days, but he resolved to be more careful for Jon's next heat. Less athletic but still generous; no attempts to match Jon's exuberance, tempering Jon's desperation with soothing touches and gentle urging— 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Jon rode Ned frantically, driving himself further down onto his cock. Ned held onto Jon's thighs, trying to rein him in while his teeth rattled in his own skull. He tried not to think about what this was doing to his still-recuperating back. Jon bore down on him relentlessly until Ned felt himself knot, pleasure filling him through the haze of pain, and Jon finally slowed down to a halt with a relieved moan. For the rest of that heat, Ned was unable to do anything but lie back and give Jon his fingers while he begged for more. At the very end, he let Jon ride his tongue, slick wetting him from nose to chest for his efforts.

Ned had to stay in bed for a fortnight after that.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Lord Umber visited Winterfell soon after one of Jon's heats. The Starks came out to greet him in the main yard, Ned trying to stand tall despite the pain shooting up his spine. Umber took a large sniff, nose pointed up in the air, and eyed Jon briefly before turning to Ned with a conspiratorial grin.

"How much time did you spend on your back?" the Greatjon leered. "The old body isn't what it used to be, is it! My two oldest keep me busy, always squabbling over who gets to sit on my—"

Cat coughed pointedly.

"—duty," Lord Umber finished. 

Ned nodded, quietly amused. "I did my fair share of lying back, but Jon handled it well. We adjusted."

The Greatjon guffawed, reaching out to pound Ned on the back before thinking better of it and redirecting his enthusiasm at Robb. 

Robb glowered but accepted the heavy weight of the Greatjon's paws descending on his shoulder. Later, Ned overheard Robb promising Jon, voice full of earnestness, "I promise I won't lie on my back at all!"

"Well, you might," Jon mused. "I liked riding his face."

  
  


* * *

  
  


Eventually, Cat told Ned to give Jon's heat to another alpha until Robb's rut decided to begin.

"No!" Ned protested, and Cat watched on, silent and unimpressed, as Ned tried to justify his response. 

"Well, if you insist on permanently ruining your back to spoil your nephew," Cat sniffed, "then at least share the burden with someone else."

Ned didn't want to share, but he knew better than to say that to his wife. And of course, Catelyn knew exactly which alpha Ned should be sharing Jon with.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Robb stood in the doorway staring at Jon, who was flushed and glassy eyed, lying on the bed with two fingers thrusting into his soaked hole. 

"Impatient boy," Ned grumbled fondly. He hadn't been gone more than a few minutes to fetch Robb and bring him to Jon's room. "And here I was, bringing you a present."

Jon whined and removed his fingers, reaching for Ned with trembling hands. "Father, please, your knot," he begged, shameless. Robb growled unhappily, but Ned silenced him with a hard palm gripping the back of his neck. 

Ned guided Robb to the bed, and the boy's anger faded as he watched Jon, wide-eyed. Ned felt him twitch under his hand when they drew close enough to see the white seed coating the inside of Jon's thighs, a reminder that Ned had knotted Jon at least once before bringing Robb into Jon's room. 

"Go ahead and touch him," Ned encouraged.

Robb leaned forward and brushed his fingers against the edge of Jon's jawline. Jon was receptive at first, turning his face to kiss the palm, then sucking in a finger. Two fingers. Robb's pupils were blown wide, and his lips parted. His other hand came up to touch the other side of Jon's face before Jon made a face and pulled away.

"No," he said petulantly, like a child. "Father," he begged, reaching for Ned. 

The crushed look on Robb's face was enough to make Ned sigh and send a prayer to the gods. "It's your scent. You don't smell like a true alpha yet, not to an omega in heat." He settled on the bed and had Jon roll onto his belly with a gentle nudge on his shoulder, then sank a finger into him—no resistance, not after being knotted twice and dripping with slick and seed. "So good," Ned hummed, and Jon shuddered in pleasure, clenching down around him. "Here," Ned commanded, nodding at Robb to come closer. "You enter him slowly at first. One finger, and always make sure he's wet before you attempt it. It will hurt him otherwise." Ned pulled his fingers out and ignored the unhappy growl that elicited from Jon. Ned smiled at his reaction; Jon's petulance at being denied was so different from the bleak rejection after their first time together. He offered Jon his fingers to suck on, quieting him. "Now you try," he told Robb. "Gently."

Robb swallowed. "What...what if it's not...good enough for him?"

 _Gods save me_ , Ned thought. His back was never going to get a chance to heal. "It's fine. It will take him longer to sense the difference if it's only your fingers, and I'll be right here to calm him with my scent in any case."

Robb nodded, reaching a hand out to lay against Jon's side, caressing briefly before focusing downwards. He frowned. "He feels too warm, Father."

Ned stroked a palm down Jon's back. "He's warm, but this much is typical. If he ever becomes hot enough that he becomes dizzy, you need to find a maester," Ned warned. "A disoriented omega is normal, a dizzy one is worrying."

Robb nodded again, so serious that Ned had to hide a smile. On the first easy press of Robb's finger to Jon's entrance, it sank in to the hilt. Jon moaned around Ned's hand, grinding back shamelessly. Robb grinned like the boy he still was. He eased a second finger inside, slowly pumping them in and out in careful movements.

"Try bending your fingers," Ned said. He stretched out on the bed to ease the impending twinge in his back—the last round of poultices hadn't been as effective the others. Jon tried to squirm closer to him. Robb shifted to follow, half on the bed to hover uneasily over Jon's body. He looked conflicted for a moment, then gave in to the urge to lean down and take a deep breath of Jon's scent. Ned could smell how thick it was, but Robb's face fell.

"I still can't smell him," Robb complained.

"Concentrate, Robb," Ned said, letting rebuke color his voice. Jon whined around Ned's fingers, recognizing the tone if not truly registering the words, and Ned hushed him by pressing his fingers just a shade more firmly against his tongue. "Crook your fingers," Ned directed to Robb. "Find his spot. This is how you give your omega pleasure and keep them happy."

"Yes, Father," Robb muttered, shamed. He returned to thrusting his fingers into Jon. After some fumbling and the addition of another finger, Jon moaned long and deep, pressing back against Robb's hand. Ned hid a smile at the way Robb's eyes went wide, watching Jon let go of Ned's fingers to gasp and pant as he wet his cousin's hand to the wrist with his slick. 

"Father," Jon whimpered, breathy. 

Robb furrowed his brow in displeasure, and without warning he pulled his fingers free and stuffed them into his mouth. He licked them clean, eyes blown wide at the taste, and didn't stop even when Ned glared at him or when Jon began to beg. 

"Please, Father, your knot, your cock...or your mouth—" 

Ned sighed and gave Jon his fingers to suck on again. He turned to Robb, about to reprimand him for being such a childish, selfish alpha, when Robb interrupted him.

"Father, may I—with my mouth?" His eyes were dark and heated at the thought.

Young love was such a nuisance, Ned thought, softening just a bit. "All right. Use your tongue, broad swipes are what Jon likes best." Robb bared his teeth at the reminder of how well Ned knew Jon's preferences, and this time Ned didn't bother hiding his amusement. "Try to keep a steady pace. Sucking on the edge is pleasurable as well, for him. Just be careful of your teeth." Ned shifted away from Jon in order to have a better look, but Jon whined, reaching for him, inching his hand towards Ned's cock. Ned sighed and pushed Jon's hand away gently. "I need you to be good for your cousin, your mate. Can you do that? Can you be good and stay like this for him?"

Jon finally seemed to reach a moment of clarity, looking up at Ned with hazy, adoring eyes. "If I'm good," he asked, voice raw from use, "do I get your cock, after?"

Robb bristled, but Ned nodded, chuckling and dropping a soft kiss on his nephew's head. "Yes, Jon. But only after."

Jon relaxed onto his belly again, assured of Ned's promise. He pulled a pillow towards him to rest his head, eyes gazing off to the side in disinterest. Robb frowned at Jon's indifference and glared at his father, but Ned just shifted down the bed and motioned to Robb to get on with it.

Robb settled himself near Jon's feet, and Ned immediately saw that Jon was too far down the bed, leaving Robb no room to maneuver. His son looked to him for guidance. 

"The alpha is the one who guides the omega during the heat," he reminded Robb. "What are the words, Robb?"

"An alpha demands, but it is an omega's choice to give," Robb recited, mostly to himself. They both looked down at Jon, who was once again shifting against the bed, flushed a full-body pink. His earlier calm was now gone, swept away by another wave of heat. "Move up the bed," Robb ordered.

Jon ignored him.

With an irritated growl, Robb grabbed him with two hands around his waist and lifted, heaving Jon closer to the headboard to make more room at the foot of the bed.

"Robb!" Ned barked, appalled.

But Jon moaned at the rough handling, clutching his fingers into the sheets and hitching his hips up as his scent filled the room even more thickly. Ned couldn't see Jon's hole from where he was positioned on the bed, but he was sure it was flushed and dripping wet. 

Robb gave Ned a smug look, which was roundly ignored. But then Jon pushed himself onto his knees and arched his back to bring his ass closer to Robb's face, startling him. 

"Move," Jon grunted, "fucking _do something_."

Robb leaned forward, eyes focused on the wet hole in front of him, lips parting in excitement. His breath must have ghosted over Jon's entrance, because Jon gave an encouraging moan. Ned watched as Robb more or less followed his advice, licking a slow, broad stripe up Jon's crease to begin with, and settling in with his mouth pressed close. Jon panted in quick breaths that were broken up by cries of pleasure. Ned saw Robb's jaw working relentlessly as he pleasured Jon with his tongue, and Ned's own jaw ached in sympathy.

When Jon started to tremble and arch his back, Ned brought Robb's hand to Jon's stomach, telling him, "Do you feel that, feel him clenching? He's about to spill. Ride him through it, there you go." Robb pressed his tongue even more insistently against Jon's hole, moaning through each stroke. "Good job, son," Ned said approvingly.

Jon's voice caught hard in his throat. He shuddered on a stuttered, breathy wail and spilled onto the sheets. Every muscle in his body seemed tensed for a long moment before he relaxed completely, falling boneless onto his belly. Robb followed his movement, holding Jon's cheeks apart with both hands before burying his face back in between. Jon wriggled, too sensitive and trying to get away. "Father, please!"

Robb refused to lean back, resisting Ned's hand on his shoulder. Ned growled in exasperation and dragged his son away with effort. Robb licked his lips clean and tried to wipe away the rest of Jon's slick from his face with his forearm, rubbing against his chin ineffectively. He stared up at Ned in question, eyes clouded with lust. 

"Too much sensation so soon after release might be painful for an omega. It's true for Jon, so you need to control your own urges." He paused, looking between the flushed, panting boy laid out on the bed, and his first born son. "He's sated, for now. You're doing well."

Robb frowned and straightened his back, looking torn between bristling and puffing up in pride. "So I'll have to hold back during Jon's heats?" he asked mulishly. 

Ned shook his head. "No, because you'll most likely be overstimulated as well. Our knots can get quite tender, and when that happens…" Ned leaned forward, slipping two fingers easily into Jon. His nephew gasped and ground down. "You stimulate him here. Understood?"

Robb made no sign that he had been listening, expression tight as his eyes fixed on the point where Ned's fingers disappeared into Jon. "I don't like you touching him," Robb said, voice low and angry. "He's _mine_."

Ned sat up, alert. "Can you smell him yet, son?"

Robb's face was still as he took in Jon's scent, but his face twisted up in disappointment. "No, not yet. I don't think so."

Ned sighed again. "I'll have to take him, then," he said wearily. He stroked Jon's flank affectionately to let him know the words were in jest. Ned moved back up the bed and lay on his back again, rearranging the pillows under his head. When he was fully settled, Jon clambered over to sprawl on top of him and nuzzle adoringly into his neck. Ned thought he could hear Robb grit his teeth over the sound of Jon's moans.

"I'm ready," Jon panted, "I'm ready, Father, I need—" 

"Yes, I know, sweetling," Ned crooned. He looked down at Robb, who was still scowling. "Robb, use your fingers to check if he's ready. He should be wet and loose enough to take—"

Jon's body jerked on top of him as Robb drove several fingers inside. Jon moaned gratefully, rubbing his wet cock against Ned's belly and squirming against Ned's own erection. Ned kept his lips closed around the reprimand he wanted to give to Robb; Ned had always been careful to be gentle and attentive with Jon, apart from that first time, but Jon was clearly appreciative of Robb's treatment. Ned stroked his hands down Jon's back and pulled gently at his curls as Robb worked his fingers inside him. Jon rocked between the two of them, eyes lidded but unseeing as he took every bit of pleasure his two alphas were offering him.

"Does he seem ready enough?" Ned asked Robb, trying to still Jon's hips to keep him from spilling again, too early.

Robb twisted his fingers deep with obscene, wet noises, sliding in and out with ease. "I think he needs more," he said stiffly.

"No!" Jon whined. He lifted up to balance astride Ned on his knees, his slick dripping down his thighs to land on Ned's skin. He dragged his sopping wet crease along Ned's length, trying to fit the tip into his loose hole, and Ned gripped Jon's thighs to steady him. "I need your knot _now_ , Father—" 

A growl erupted from Robb, making the hair on the back of Ned's neck stand on end.

"No," Robb hissed, yanking Jon back by his hips. His nostrils flared as he took a breath, and his eyes were dark as he finally caught Jon's scent. "Not him, Jon, please."

Jon craned around to look at him. With some mingled relief and disappointment, Ned watched as Jon's entire focus shifted from him to Robb—his newly rutted alpha. Ned let his head sink back into the pillows with a deep sigh; he had fulfilled his duty, and his back looked forward to some rest.

  
  


* * *

  
  


However. Ned still couldn't move, his back truly aching now with shooting pains, and the two boys were too deep into their heat to notice him.

He was left with no choice but to lie there as his son and nephew coupled on top of him, jolting with every thrust. Ned had to listen to Robb's moans as he fucked into Jon— _Rather clumsy_ , Ned thought unkindly—and the feeling of Jon's slick dripping down onto his leg was less appealing when he was not directly involved in the proceedings.

Robb jerked to a stop with a hitching groan. Ned realized with alarm that he'd knotted Jon without even letting him finish. _What a selfish oaf_ , Ned thought as he reached for Jon's cock.

Robb's hand was suddenly there to bat Ned aside. He curled his fingers around Jon's cock, tugging quickly. "Mine," Robb growled, "you're mine, Jon, I want you to come on _my_ knot, please—"

Ned felt the hot spatter of Jon's come hit his thigh with no small amount of resignation. 

Thankfully, the two of them were generous enough to collapse to the side, rather than on top of Ned. He eased out of bed carefully, mindful of his back, and made himself put on his clothes while he ground his teeth through the pain.

The last thing he saw, as he left the room to tell Cat the good news: Robb, laving his tongue over the livid bite mark he'd left on the side of Jon's neck. 


End file.
